People, especially all the new friends of Durga, cornered her with the interrogation, “why do you stay alone in your room?” They sometimes shoot the same question as, “why don’t you share room with other staff members?”, for all these typical queries pat comes an answer from her mouth, “I like to be alone. It gives me freedom and independence.”
“Let me see how long you’re going to repeat the worn out words…”, the words would swoop out of their tongues and “there is much secret about her and her behaviour”, would be words that would throng locked like that of a dog that is been tied with a lengthy, strong chain. Durga would never give an ear to all those unheard words. She believes in “INNOCENCE IS BLISS” and not in “heard melodies are sweet and those unheard are sweeter.”
She had a happy living, an independent living of her own – in her own world. She was working as a Lecturer in a college, which is near her room. For the first few days she felt work like a hell, it made her stay away from home…she would weep, yell alone in her lonely room…nobody would listen to her. This was for few days but she assuaged herself and now she is much fine and at ease with her job and the environment.
Her mansion had just two rooms, which were identical. Nobody, not even she, could find much difference about these two rooms and they could never come out with a proper conclusion on how to use these two rooms. Not even a professional utilitarian thinker would say it cut and right to use the rooms purposes. It took Durga a week to keep her things. She often shuffled things even after several months passed by.
The owners of her house were kind persons and they possessed good heart for they were consoling Durga when she was new to the place. It gave much solace and thus she managed to stay in the room though it looked awkward. The flooring of the room, especially, had well-established roots in it that had spread all over the room. There was one more room near hers and a woman, a schoolteacher, was staying all alone. The teacher’s presence in her room could be confirmed with the noise of a radio. If the radio blares like donkey then the teacher is out of reach and if the noise is lessened then it symbolizes that she is IN and listening to the songs, the usual program with the radio stations. Then in the first floor, where Durga stayed, there were two other rooms, waiting for a dawn. They both were not completely built and those nacked red bricks would long for a skin to cover themselves and their vain attempt made them mirror a human skin during the hot summers of April.
Both these women, who shared the first floor, were also asked to share a common toilet and a bathroom, which was hidden at the back of the half - built rooms. During night times, very rarely, Durga would get scared to walk through the dilapidated, ghost like rooms to use the toilet. Her pace would increase as much as it could if she happens to use them during the darkness. The ground floor had three houses one for the owner and two for outsiders. In one of the latter houses came new tenants who were much old in age. They were a couple – an old man and an old woman. Durga usually never talked with the neighbours. She did not know anything about them, but they knew her very well, she would think to herself.
The new tenants made her a bit more frightened for she would often see the old man in the first floor walking from the toilet but she would have never seen him cross her room when he was heading for it. This would surprise her. She was also taken aback when she saw him roaming aimlessly in the first floor, which had nothing to amuse him. The way he looked at her was one more thing that would threaten her to death. She almost all the time, stared at him, shunned at him and had negative remarks about him. As days passed, she also tried her level best to avoid seeing the old man’s face. She thought of complaining the old man to her owner but felt a bit reluctant and silly to do so.
Days passed a few with threat and a few with a sound sleep. One night after her usual works, Durga went to sleep and had a sound sleep as soon as she stretched herself in the mattress. Early in the next morning around 3 o’clock, Durga sprang up from her bed. She did not know the exact time, she could not recognize the exact hour – night or a day. Everything was dark around her – pitch black. She could hear the barking of a dog, it also howled occasionally. She then lay down once again with her eyes wide open like that of an owl. Some unusual sound tore her eyelashes but what was the sound she could not recognize. She lay in the mat for some time and once again, she heard it – distinctly. It was the sound of seashell being blown by a person. This noise was also accompanied by the sound of metal plate struck by a metal rod. It is a death knell, she thought, with a sigh of relief. “Probably some one would have kicked the bucket”, she muttered and went to bed. She did not dare peep out of the window to witness the death procession. She got up afresh the next morning and came to look for the dead petals of rose in the road. To her surprise, she could see none of them. “Probably they were not accustomed to this culture of mine. It’s a nice habit they didn’t waste the beauty of a flower”, she said and went ahead with her daily chores.
The next night, early in the morning, again, the knell was heard and it never forgot to probe into the ears of Durga. She woke up from the sleep, not from the bed. Her heartbeat was on par and rhythmic to that of the knell. She was not able to lift her head; it denied accepting all her orders.
Voice 1: “Daily a death? Absolutely no! This must be the call for me from… who else other than Lord Yama.”
Voice 2: “But this is too much. I’m young and also a good person then how come you can come so early?”
Voice 3: “Why you came yesterday then? Is it to inform me?”
Voice 4: “Are you going to take me? Why don’t you come when I’m in my home, with my parents?”
So many such voices sprouted out of Durga’s mind but they were all Durga’s for they had only words but no sound. The sound came nearer and nearer, louder and louder and this respectively was reflected in the increased throbbing of her heart. She thought that she was at the throes of life. The sound came very near and she closed her eyes tightly so that a few teardrops oozed out from the sides of her eyelashes. It was as that of squeezing a lemon – you get more juice the more you squeeze. The sound then passed by her and got lost in the empty air. She heard it moving away from her and finally it died. After an hour or two she thought “why didn’t He take me away today itself?” Even after all these terrible things, she refused to raise her head from the mattress.
The next day about seven in the morning, she inquired the neighbour about the strange sound she’s been hearing for the past two days. The neighbour said that she never experienced such a sound. “It would be a dream then. But why I alone heard and nobody did?” She didn’t get time to think over an answer for her work compelled her so she left things as it is and went ahead with the day’s work.
She came home after a long work and as she opened the doors, she heard a rattling sound coming from the dilapidated building. She switched on the bulb and peeped into the house very quietly and to her surprise came out the old man with his eyes fixed towards Durga. He crossed her with a big stare. She was taken aback. She did not go and wash her face that evening and kept herself locked inside the room for she could hear the earsplitting noise of the radio, belonging of her neighbour. She thought of nestling in the owner’s house but her ego did not let it. She did not sleep well but sleep creeped into her eyes during the late hours of the night. Her sleep was shook to its root at the same hour, at the same minute, at the same second as that of the previous day’s.
“Huh! The same sound and nothing else”, said Durga and snored. “What a surprise! Was it me?” she exclaimed the next morning. “But I want to confirm and crack what is going about me or the world.” saying so she planned to get a terminus for all her trepidations.
During lunch, which she usually takes in her owner’s house, she reluctantly conveyed the horrors she’s been experiencing for the past few days. The whole world around mocked and laughed at her saying that it is a usual habit of the temple priest to wake the people in that particular divine and holy month.
On perceiving, this Durga first exerted a sigh of relief but later could not digest the fact that the whole world is laughing, not with her but at her. This she could not bare. She was also not able to leave the place JUST LIKE THAT, for the elders may think it to be a sign of disrespect towards them. She felt it difficult to inhale and swallow the food amidst the sound and fury of others.
That evening as she came back home from work and a small boy, in the street, who said, “I too believe in ghosts”, interrupted her.
K. madhav
